


What Once Was

by LittleDemonTingy



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 03:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30116358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDemonTingy/pseuds/LittleDemonTingy
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is not supposed to be here. Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was supposed to be at the bottom of a sewer pipe, under the fucking rotting foundation of the neibolt house, hole in his chest, with almost a weeks worth of decomposition setting in to his cold but handsome features.But here he is, standing before Richie, undeniably unpierced and clearly not dead.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress and I will be doing my best to correct any mistakes as we go. Please note that while most of the details of the movies are the same here, some are not. I will try to be clear about these changes without spoiling future plot points, but feel free to ask me if you have questions.

Once, when Richie was no more than ten years old, before a killer clown broke Eddie Kaspbraks arm and terrorized the Losers Club in the small town of Derry Maine, Eddie walked in on Richie when he was in the middle of changing into his pajamas at a sleepover. Richie spent the rest of the night absolutely humiliated that Eddie Kaspbrak saw his bare butt.  
Richie Tozier is not ten years old now. This is not before Pennywise the dancing clown broke Eddies arm, hell, this isn't even before that red nosed mother fucker came back for seconds and thoroughly whipped the loser clubs collective ass before getting his slimy heart crushed between their fingers.  
Richie Tozier is once again naked, fresh from the shower and nothing but a towel around his waist, Eddie Kaspbrak standing in his bedroom doorway, staring at him slack jawed.  
Eddie Kaspbrak is not supposed to be here. Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was supposed to be at the bottom of a sewer pipe, under the rotting foundation of the neibolt house, hole in his chest, with almost a weeks worth of decomposition setting in to his cold but handsome features.  
But here he is, standing before Richie, undeniably unpierced and clearly not dead. Grey water dripped from his hair and clothes and black sludge stained his sleeves and face, but under the grubby torn shirt, Richie could see clean and uninjured skin. Richie stumbled forward on wobbling legs and reached out to touch the impossible spot of skin, a shocking contrast to the dirt and blood that surrounded it.  
The thought occurred to Richie that this could be a hallucination or a trick from a not so dead Pennywise, but his fingers didn't pass through the patch of warm skin, nor did Eddies hand shoot out to grab him with clawed fingers or a toothy growl. No, nothing but soft warm skin and a halted gasp met his probing fingers.  
"ah-ha, uh, Richie, that tickles." Eddie said in a raspy voice, like this was the first it had been used in a while. Richies eyes met Eddies and he let out a sob. Eddie was really here, alive.  
"Eddie, you- your- How are you-..."  
"Alive? Dude, no idea. Last thing I remember, you were in the dead lights and I was throwing a fence post at that spider fucker and then... I was saying something to you and... the world got all... vibratey, like the universe was trying to shake me out of my body or something... I don't know, it was weird. And then I'm waking up in your old house? W-what the hell, man. What are we even doing here? What happened? Did we do it? Did we kill IT?" Eddie said in that million miles a minute way Richie always adored. Richie tried to keep up and think of what the hell to do next. God, Eddie was HERE, Eddie was ok!  
"I- We, yeah, we did it Eds, we killed IT. You... You're safe now." Richie pulled Eddie in and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Eddie was here and that's all that mattered.  
"Good, that's, go- Ah! Richie, I'm disgusting and you just got out of the shower. I'm going to give you blastomycosis or something! Let me get washed up. Do you have any extra clothes? I left mine back at the inn" Eddie pushed past Richie like he hadn't just been dead for a fucking week and Richie hadn't been drinking himself half to death every night mourning him ever sense.  
"Uh, no, yeah. Actually, I have your stuff here. I kinda collected it up after... after the fight." Richie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. What the fuck are you suppose to do in this situation? Should he be calling the hospital? The other Losers? An exorcist?  
"Oh, thanks Rich. You had time to run back to the inn? How long was I out? You gotta fill me in after my shower. Do you think I should go in for a tetanus shot? I feel like I should get a tetanus shot. That house was fucking disgusting." Eddie called through the door of the bathroom. Richie blinked away the shell shocked look from his face as he listened to the door lock behind Eddie. Richie fell back onto his bed and buried his face in his hands.  
This... this wasn't possible. Eddie couldn't be in his bathroom showering right now. But he was.  
The sound of water running seemed to bring Richies mind to a clearer place and he could finally think. This was good. Richie had no idea how it was happening, but it was and regardless of if it was a hallucination and his mind finally giving way to madness after the trauma its faced, this was the first time in a week Richie could hold his head up and look at the world around him without a drink in hand or a tremor in his limbs and lips.  
After neibolt 2.0, Richie couldn't bring himself to leave his old home town. Not that he hadn't tried. He had his flight booked and even managed to return his rental car, but... something stopped him from getting into his uber to the airport. Instead, he had the driver take him back to the inn from the rental place, where he collected Eddies things as quickly as he could, not letting himself look at anything too closely should it send him into the waiting abyss of his grief.  
Throwing the bags into the back with his own, he directed the old man behind the wheel to his childhood home. After his parents died, they left the house to Richie. It had been in the family for generations and Richie didn't think to sell it. The utility bill and taxes just fell into his other expenses, seamlessly blending in thanks to the fog that covered anything that had to do with Derry or his childhood. He actually forgot he even owned it still until he got there and the overgrown lawn greeted him like he was just returning from vacation.  
Richie hadn't bothered changing the burned out lights or mowing the lawn. He just dumped his and Eddies bags in the empty kitchen and went to raid his dads old liquor cabinet.  
The next few days, Richie would spend his time either drinking, sleeping, or wandering the streets of Derry like a ghost, remembering the things the clown had brushed to the back of his subconscious mind.  
Once or twice he would pass out in the club house or behind the gutted arcade. He filled his stomach with gas station crap he picked up when the booze ran out two days in. He only just managed to come out of his stopper this afternoon after a phone call from Bev, checking in on him and announcing her and bens engagement. It knocked something loose in him. Life was different now. Life was moving on around him, even as he refused to move with it, tethered to Derry as if the pain of losing Eddie was a physical rope around his wrists.  
He had about 30 missed calls from his manager, who had apparently set him up with an official hiatus indefinitely, but he "better fucking call him if he doesn't want to lose his entire fucking career over some hookers and blow bender or whatever the fuck you're blowing off Reno for." in his managers angry but mostly worried words. Richie didn't have the energy or will to call him back yet or even really look at all his missed calls. The only reason he checked his phone at all was because it hadn't stopped squawking at him sense he charged it and woke it up to call for a pizza. And even then, he had only meant to put it on mute until he saw the missed call from Bev and had no choice but to call her back.  
Bev sounded genuinely worried for him. Worried in a way he hadn't heard sense his mom last called him to congratulate him on his first TV appearance and ask if he was eating well enough and please come visit soon, it's almost Christmas and your father and I miss you. He wouldn't be home for Christmas.  
The last time he would see his mother would be a month before that call when she and his father came to visit him on their vacation to New York. The last time he would see his father was at his mother's funeral in his mother's home town, two hours away from Derry.  
Went would grip his shoulder, never one for hugs, and tell him he was proud of the man he was becoming, but please, find a girl, settle down, have a few kids. Family is all we have in the end after all. Went would then surprise Richie by pulling him into a rare and awkward hug. "or someone... to make you happy. Found family is still family. I just want you to be happy son, whatever that means for you. I will always be proud of you, regardless Richard"  
At the time, Richie hadn't had a response. All he could do was swallow the lump in his throat and hug his father back. "love you dad. thanks..."  
Richie felt just as awkward listening to Bev gush over how romantic Bens proposal had been. The wedding wasn't for a while, but her divorce was almost final, fast tracked by the overwhelming evidence of abuse on her ex husbands end and "you better be there for the divorce party I'm throwing Richie, or your balls will be the appetizer at my wedding! I swear Richie!" and far it be from Richie to let Ringwald down.  
He dumped out the whisky after hanging up. He had to pull himself together if he was going to be any good for facing his friends again. Something tugged at him though when he went to start gathering his things to leave Derry once and for good.  
Maybe it was the sight of Eddies things he'd only gone through once while drunk just to fall asleep in a pile of Eddies clothes, the scent somehow easing him into the only restful sleep he'd had in days... or maybe it was the same force that stopped him from going to the airport, or had taken his miserable hide to the kissing bridge to recarve that familiar set of initials. Something deep in his bones, something heavy and powerful wouldn't let him leave this town he hated so much. Something bound him to the spot any time he thought about wandering too far from the awful place bellow the dilapidated house on Neibolt street. It was like, if he left, he was leaving Eddie, and that was something Richie couldn't yet bring himself to consider.  
\----------------------------------------  
Beverly Marsh had made numerous mistakes in her life, one maybe being leaving Richie unattended post Derry, but Bev was anything but stupid. No, she could hear the broken way Richie's words wobbled from his throat, like he was still shaking in her arms after leaving the water that day. She could feel his heart crying out as clearly as she could when he broke down crying in her arms, whispering about how he couldn't save him, he couldn't tell him and now he's gone, he couldn't save him. Bev cried silently into Richies hair as she tried to sooth him. She wouldn't realize until she was on the boat with Ben telling her how he could never tell her as kids, just what Richie meant.  
Bev was anything but stupid, but sometimes she could be dumb as fuck. Mainly when it came to things like feelings and the delicate nature of love. Of course she loved Ben and longed for the comforts he now offered her, but even as a child she hadn't had the best luck seeing through the feelings of others. Now that she finally had unselfish, real love in her life, it all made sense. The way Richie would pick on Eddie, doing anything for his attention, the way he never seemed interested in what was going on around him unless Eddie was speaking, the way he fought to stay with Eddie as the tunnels filled with rain water and swept eddies body away, literally kicking and screaming as Ben pulled him from the water and out of the neibolt house. Only one thing could explain why he was willing to stay and drown with eddies lifeless body.  
Bev made up the divorce party on the spot, listening to Richies uncharacteristically dull voice answer the phone. Richie was one of her best friends and she loved him so much. She hated to hear him so defeated and vacant. "The deed should be done in about a month Tozier, so you better be answering your phone from now on. Mike has been worried sick!"  
Mike and the other losers talked on the phone every day to make sure no one forgot each other. Everyone but Richie. At first, they were worried that Richie had forgotten, but then Mike said he saw Richie in Derry still, up by the kissing bridge. He didn't say why, but Mike had decided not to disturb him. He saw Richie a few more times, once headed towards the club house and once laying on the front porch of his old house. He looked drunk, but otherwise ok.  
They... were all dealing with things in their own way. Richie wasn't the only one who'd gotten drunk or went through old memories. They were all still getting back pieces of their childhoods, some wanted, others not, but not one of them would judge the others for how they chose to cope. Just the other night Bev heard Ben crying in the bathroom and found him scrubbing at the faded scar Bowers left on his stomach.  
Goodness knows Bev had been in a similar state many times the last few days. It wasn't all honeymoons and yacht rides after all. The memories crashed in as fresh as if they were happening in real time.  
But they had each other to get through it together and Mike has had years to come to terms with the marks Derry leaves. Who does Richie have? Once upon a time it should have been Eddie, or maybe even Stan, given how close they were, but... god, Rich lost both of them and had to deal with this alone. Bev couldn't just do nothing. So, mandatory Losers Club Meeting. She needed to see that Richie was going to be ok.  
In the meantime? She promised to keep in touch with that poor idiot at least once a day. If he answers his damn phone that is. So help her, she will march her ass back to Derry and pull him out by his ear if she had to. She still might given how little Richie was willing to talk to her. He didn't even tell her he was still in Maine. Yeah, Beverly Marsh was worried for Richie Tozier.

\------------------------------

Eddie couldn't feel the water on his skin, no matter how hot he turned it. He couldn't seem to get warm, and the ache in his stomach begged him to eat before it ate him inside out. He tried to remember what happened after he stabbed IT, but nothing filled the blank space in his mind. Only Richie's scared face looking up at him, Why was he on top of Richie? The question made the turning in his stomach feel a bit odd.  
The soap in the shower was solid in the bottles. Looking closer, he realized they were from back when this was Richies bathroom as a kid. A memory of setting up his own soaps, meds, and skin routine washed over him but was quickly jolted away like a carrot on a string. He tried to draw it back in, but only what he'd felt for that moment remained.  
When they were kids, Eddie loved staying at Richies. The rules were so much simpler and there was no plastic on the couch and sanitizing station at the door he had to use any time he came or went. Just Richie, warm welcomes, cookies with real sugar in the cookie jar, no bedtime at 7pm and best of all, Richie.  
Richie could send him to the bughouse and back, but it was never boring. He always knew exactly what to say to get him to let his guard down and stop thinking about pleasing his mother. Eddie was free to be loud and as bold as he wanted with Richie and he was always rewarded with a bright smile or that addictive laugh of his. Eddie unscrewed the top of a relatively full bottle of shampoo and scraped some of the firm goo into his hand to scrub the grime with. Expired soap is better than no soap and it actually smelled really nice. Familiar.  
Starting with the matted clumps of who knows what in his hair, Eddie washed and washed until he was finally more man than dirt. When he scraped more soap into his hand and started scrubbing it against his chest, he froze.

A child, cowering in his seat in a loaded movie theater. A girl, crossing the street to avoid the group of men drunkenly catcalling her from the entrance of a bar. A man, sitting on his bed waiting for a beloved ghost to return or worse, not return. Some homeless teen trying to get high for the first time in an abandoned building far from home. All so afraid, all so lost, all so... delicious. The closest is just feet away, it would be so easy to go to him. So easy to cut him open and drink from that sweet resivuar of terror and dread. All that fear, all those .... secrets.

Eddie came to his senses and the water was cold. He could definitely feel it now. His stomach lurched again angrily, but Eddie focused on powering through the cold long enough to finish thuruly washing every nook and cranny.  
He shut the water off and found his own towel and clothes waiting for him on the counter nearest the door. Thank you Richie.  
After he was dry and dressed, Eddie followed the smell of food down stairs to an empty kitchen. Empty save for Richie sitting at the table with a bag of take out Chinese.  
"Chinese food? Really Rich? I thought we all swore off Chinese after it, you know, came alive and attacked us?"  
Richie jumped and the expression on his face when he turned to look at him was wild and desperate, as if not believing what he was seeing. But the look quickly faded and was replaced with Richies old smile.  
"Edwardo! You're out of the shower! Took you long enough, I started to think you disappeared in there or something." Richies tone lost its joking melody at the end of his comment. His smile faded too, but he covered for it by jumping up and sliding a chair out for Eddie to join him.  
Starving, Eddie didn't hesitate to take the offered seat and dig into his waiting food. Richie just watched him silently as he ate at a pace that normally Eddie would consider a choking risk, but he couldn't be bothered. Eddie was finished with his food in just a few wordless minutes, but... it still left him hungry. At least he was full enough to focus properly though. He looked up at his host for the first time sense tucking in. Richie still stared and Eddie couldn't quite read his expression. Relief ? Worry? Hunger?  
"You, uh... you're not eating?" Eddie probed. Richie seemed to shake himself from his thoughts and actually look at Eddie instead of through him.  
"Sorry, Eds. Was just impressed at how fast you put all that food away! You sure you got enough? You want mine too?" Richie laughed. He laughed again when Eddie responded with "Actually, if you're offering..." and slid his food over to Eddie. The adorable smile and thanks it earned him was well worth the trade. The feeling of normalcy he hadn't had sense he couldn't remember when, or rather, he was just starting to remember, washed over him like warm summer wind, sun heating his cheeks. He was home. Yes, literally, but now in the way that actually mattered. He was with Eddie again.  
Suddenly he understood why he was so compelled to stay. He felt the pull from before and it was coming from Eddie. It had always come from Eddie, even when he didn't remember who he was. That longing for something he couldn't name, something that all of the money and applause in the world couldn't quiet. It was Eddie. He knew it at the Jade and he knew it at the kissing bridge. The gaping hole in his chest he could never fill, not with booze or with secret flings with nameless men, it was shaped like Eddie and now he could feel him slipping into place like he had never left.  
The fear and worry Richie felt listening to the shower run and wondering what the fuck was happening melted away. The screaming in his brain that called for Eddie as he had outside of neibolt, barely dulled with all his drinking, finally lowered to a whisper and then was gone. Replaced with the pleasant familiar fear he had grown up with, of the sweet taste Eddie left in his chest. That fear he'd learned to live with as a teen, that he even sort of befriended. A fear that never seemed to matter when Eddie was looking at him.  
"Where are the others?" Eddie asked, swallowing a bite of food, less rushed now. Richie chewed his lower lip a bit and wasn't sure how to explain what Eddie had missed. What he had been dead for.  
"They, uh, they went home... I told them you could sleep with me until you felt better. I mean, not like that. You know, sleep at my house. My old house. You slept a lot. Almost a week."  
"A WEEK? RICHIE, WHAT THE FUCK, WHY WOULDNT YOU TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL?! WHAT ABOUT MY WIFE! Oh god, Mayra. What the actual fuck am I suppose to tell Mayra? 'yeah, sorry for ditching you for over a week without a word, but I was busy killing an alien clown freak and then I just decided to take the longest fucking nap ever, and oh yeah, I want a divorce. See you for dinner at your moms next week!" Eddie rambled urgent as ever.  
"Wait, you want to divorce your wife?" Richie asked, hands up in an effort to calm Eddie down so he could talk slow enough to follow.  
"Well.... I mean yeah? I kinda decided back in neibolt when you... told me I was brave. You made me realize she was basically a clone of my mother and that I could... I could do better if I was brave enough to leave her. And I want to. I want to be brave enough. I think I deserve to do better after everything we went through." Eddie was calm now, smiling at his food like it knew something Eddie wasn't saying.  
Richie tried to control his heart beat. It was probably wrong to be happy about his friend getting a diverse, but it wasn't like he hadn't felt the same when Bev said she was getting one, and it made him overwhelmingly happy to know he helped Eddie come to the decision by something he said. But when Eddie said he deserved better, while Richie agreed ten thousand present, it kinda left an ache in his chest. He hopes he would at least be better than Mayra or Sonia, but... he could never imagine himself being good enough to deserve Eddie. Not that Richie thought Eddie was... like him, but that didn't stop the growing pain of knowing one day Eddie would move on from Derry and grow out of the little banter and playful back and forth they shared. He hoped Eddie would stay in touch at least.  
"Shit, what if she thinks I'm dead? She probably already filed a missing persons report! God, maybe I should just let her think I am" Eddie mused. Richies face drained of blood. Fuck. He almost forgot that Eddie, by all rights, should be dead. In the relief of having him back, he had yet to consider the implications of Eddies sudden appearance in his old house. As grateful as he was, there was the mystery of how. Richie remembered seeing Eddies head fall below water, the blackness consuming him like a living void. He could still feel Eddies blood on his face in his sleep. How could it be possible for Eddie to survive that, let alone make it into his house completely healed and with no memory of how he got there?  
Granted, what part of a supernatural kid killing clown was possible? Richie shuddered at the thought of there being a connection between the two, but tried to reassure himself that if evil magical forces could exist, why not good ones? He did feel something more was at play as they fought for their lives as kids, something more than the magic of friendship or whatever, but what would bring Eddie back to life instead of just helping them kill IT and preventing Eddies death in the first place? God, Richie didn't know and his head was still reeling from the bender he'd been on and the grief turned relief of losing and regaining his childhood love.  
He should really call Bev or Mike to help him figure this out... but... on the other hand, Bev had her own life and happily ever after to think about now and Mike might not understand. What if he thought Eddie being alive was a sign of something dangerous and tried to test this miracle and he ended up losing Eddie again? No, no, Mike would never put a friend at risk... well, not unless.... ugh, no. Mike spent enough of his life researching supernatural craziness, he deserved a break and it wasn't like Eddie being back was a problem. He could wait until they all meet again at Bevs divorce party and just surprise them with the good news. What could it hurt if Richie just kept Eddie to himself for a little while?  
Shit, that sounded creepy, even to Richie. He wasn't trying to be, he just missed Eddie so bad and was so happy to have him back. His feelings didn't have to play any part in it. Eddie was his best friend too after all.  
"You should just do what I did, blow it all off for a while. We went through some crazy shit, dude, so who would blame you for taking a while to just chill with your old pal Richie and recharge your battery a while?" Eddie looked at Richie funny and then seemed to realize something that caused him to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation.  
"Shit, might as well, sense my phone is somewhere in the sewer keeping the rats company." Richie smiled indulgently, but internally cringed at the image, unable to stop his mind from replacing the phone with Eddies lifeless body. He tried to remind himself it didn't matter anymore, Eddie is here now, but he knew what he saw and felt in those wet tunnels would never fully leave him in peace. Hopefully Eddie being near would help more than the alcohol did.


	2. Nothing Lives, Nothing Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike found himself musing at something people use to say about this cursed town when they were children. Nothing that dies in Derry truely stays dead. What a load of shit. Nothing that lives in Derry ever truely lives is what they should have said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is so much fun to write. I hope to keep a consistent updating schedule and I already have the basic over arching plot mapped out, so hopefully writers block wont trip me up.  
> Thank you to GolemAngel for brainstorming this story with me and inspiring it in the first place, you've been a great help!  
> And thank you to everyone who reads this and interacts, it really is gratifying to see people are enjoying this as much as I am.

-

-

Richie and Eddie spent the rest of the night falling back into their old groove, easy going chitchat and laughing at eachothers jokes coming back like a well practiced routine. They talked about the dumb shit they did as kids, reminiscing over all the trouble they use to get into.  
Mostly Richie talked and Eddie listened, interjecting only to argue about the details of who's fault it was they got caught or which of their idea it was to do something so obviously asking to get them injured.  
Eddie wanted to add his own recaptured memories to the pile Richie was creating, but somehow he could only remember things after Richie started bringing them up from the fog in his mind. It worried him. How was Richie so easily pulling these stories from the past when all Eddie could uncover were little details of things he'd already remembered between Mikes phone call and fighting IT? Was there just less good in Eddie's past to uncover? He doubted that, given how Richie was still going on and on about the things they did together.  
Eddie tried to cling to those shared memories, uncover details of his own from Richie's words, but... it was like he could remember it as clear as day, but only from Richie's perspective. How could that make any sense though? It wasn't like he could see Richie's memories that didn't involve him and he could remember what he felt in the ones that did. Eddie just felt... off somehow. Perhaps he is just tired though. It was getting late and even Richie who was notorious for staying up ungodly late, yawned like he hadn't seen the inside of his own eyelids in days.

Richie stopped talking when he noticed Eddie starting to drift a bit, so out of it, he didn't even notice Richie's silence. He could just look at Eddie all night, counting the freckles lightly dusting his skin just bellow his drooping eyelids and up the bridge of his nose. You couldn't normally see adult Eddie's freckles like when they were kids and Eddies mother didn't give him the chance to grow tan over them. Now though, Richie was close enough to Eddie on the couch to get a good look. It struck Richie just how much different they were now, well and truly adults.  
Eddies face was filled out nicely, a much more masculine look than when they were kids, and he had grown into his thick dark eyebrows. Baby fat gave way to fine runners muscle and Richie didn't know which he would rather face in a fight, that thick muscular neck or that stern fucking scowl that somehow went from adorable to smoldering in the last twenty odd years.  
Richie yawned and tore his gaze away. He shouldn't be doing this now, he should be offering Eddie somewhere to sleep. He poked Eddie's shoulder to get his attention and offered him his parents old bed or the couch. Not that Richie wanted to share his bed or the couch with Eddie, no. He just figured Eddie would prefer to not suffer through Richie's flailing limbs or weird snoring in such a cramped space. Richie had dibs on his bed, mainly because he wasn't sure if he left any empty bottles in it he didn't want Eddie to see.  
Eddie accepted the couch by giving Richie a rough shove with his feet. Richie managed to catch himself before he hit the floor and laughed.  
"Ok, ok, your majesty. Should her highness desire some more blankets or pillows, you remember where they are. Second closet after the bathroom." Richie retreated to his childhood room for the most restful sleep he'd had in a long while. He did not notice when the front door opened and quiet as a shadow, something with vacant yellow eyes slipped through. Nor did he notice a few hours later when the satisfied form passed through the doorway again, not bothering to close it behind him.

\---------‐----------

A strict looking woman stood with her daughter at the end of her driveway, tapping her foot like she could telegraph her irritation to the world around her in morse code. Her daughter tried to stay as small and quiet as possible as to not irritate her further.  
The girl wasn't really afraid of her mother, not when she knew she would never hurt her. Mother just wanted what was best for her is all, and if that meant gripping her arm a little harder than the girl would like in order to direct her where to go and what to do, well, that was just how mother's showed they cared.  
"Julia, stand up straight, your useless father is here finally." The woman directed her daughter to the side so her ex-husband could pull into the driveway.  
"Twelve minutes, Gregory, twelve minutes late. How do you pick your daughter up for dance practice at the same time every week for four years and STILL not know how to get here on time?! For christ sake, what do you even do besides mess things up at your crummy part time job and then sit around all day? What could you possibly be doing to make you thirteen minutes late?" Julia tuned out her mothers urgent ravings and got into her fathers car before she could catch her fathers undoubtedly biting response. Dance class didn't start for a half an hour and it was a fifteen minute drive.  
"~~~~ fucking know when our kid's dance class starts Gloria, you fucking giraffe necked- sorry Julia, I couldn't find my insulin pen, thats why daddy's late" her father explained, slamming his door on Gloria mid sentence. "Put your seat belt on" he reminded before pulling out of the driveway and away from her mother and the set of unfocused yellow eyes that watched her from across the street. 

This woman, Gloria, did not look like mommy. No, she was not fat or dressed in a garish pink track suit or sweatpants. Gloria was thin with long limbs, clad in a light floral sundress, by no stretch did she resemble mommy physically, but... in the ways that counted, she was practically a perfect copy. Her tightly clenched jaw even as noone was presumably there to see it, the distasteful scowl that seeped even into her eyes that might have otherwise been a pretty blue. The way her hand that once gripped her childs arm opened and closed periodically, like it itched for its sense of control back.  
The woman turned on her heel like a machine and strode quickly back to the house. The yellow eyes waited for her in the shadow of the foyer, waiting for the door to close securely behind her.  
When Gloria bent to undo the straps of her shoes, thats when the darkness fell upon her like a sheet.  
Suddenly she wasnt in the suburbs anymore and her sundress was replaced by a familiar uniform. Bombs bursting in the distance shook the walls around her and she had 3 patients in critical condition crying out to her in pain.  
Gloria searched for her crash kit, but the room they were barricaded in had only the bare basics of first aid kits. Nothing that could stop a bleeding man from going into shock or stop his bleeding stump.  
Something cold gripped her arm and her hyperventilating breath stilled in her chest. Blue eyes met yellow and her head shot backwards, a scream ripping from her lungs. She could see it. She could see her fear and her panic flashing before her eyes, a blinding light coming from her mouth like her scream had been lit on fire. The man with the yellow eyes yanked her arm closer and his mouth opened, spliting his face in two like a snakes jaw to consume the light. Gloria tried to scream harder, hoping someone, anyone would hear her and come to help, but all her sound was drown out by the sound of gunfire and bombshells drawing down on them.  
The monsters jaw opened wider still, and then Gloria couldn't see. The light was spilling from her eyes too now and it burned, it burned so badly, like her soul was clawing at the edges to stay with her and not be eaten by this thing. And then it went quiet and dark. The last thing she was aware of was a wet crunching sound and three strange lights at the end of a tunnel. 

Ah, relief. This womans fear, metallic and bitter, filled the emptiness that hunger once held. Relief. Senses slowly returning, warmth seeping into limbs, clarity, and... sleep. Time to sleep.  
The yellow eyed thing once again shaped like a man, let Glorias limp body fall to the floor and he slipped away as if nothing happened. 

\--------------------------------------

Eddie woke with a start, his limbs tangled in a blanket he didn't remember grabbing. Richie must have put it on him when he woke up this morning. Eddie smiled, curling back into the blanket contentedly until he smelled food from the kitchen. He wasn't particularly hungry, but it smelled sooo good.  
Eddie popped out of his blanket cave and inhaled deeply, eggs and bacon greeting him like a lover he longed to ravish. He got up and wandered to the kitchen, not even thinking to look for his pills that weren't there.  
Richie was at the stove, pouring pancake batter into a hot pan, two plates of food already waiting at the table.  
"Whats this? You made breakfast?" Eddie asked, sitting at the table and pulling his plate to him.  
Richie jumped, startled into almost dropping the bowl of pancake batter into the pan. Richie collected himself, avoiding an accident, and turned to smile at him.  
"Nope~" Richie popped the p " lunch actually. We slept in. Its 1 o'clock, but I was up at the early hour of 11am, so i grabbed some groceries for our little guycation. See what i did there? Its like vacation, but we're guys, so its GUYcation." Richie snarfed at his own lame humor. Eddie rubbed at the sleep in his eyes. 1pm? Eddie couldn't remember the last time he slept past 7:30 with the acception of the week long nap he doesn't remember taking.  
Eddie supposed it was probably back when they were kids and slept in after an all-nighter of comic books and cheesy horor movies. Eddie use to love that because it flew in the face of everything Sonia expected of him. Artery clogging junk food with all the potential allergens in every bite, wrestling matches that always ended with suspicious bumps and bruises his mom would hopefully not notice the next day, and Richie. The one thing Eddie's mom hated most of all, time with Richie.  
Eddie smiled at the memories and shoved a forkfull of eggs in his mouth. It tasted buttery and salty, just like when Ms Tozier would make it for them despite breakfast having long passed.

Richie woke that morning feeling dried out and a bit ill. A normal morning for him honestly. What wasn't normal was waking up stone cold sober and not recognizing the ceiling for a moment. It took a sec for Richie to remember where he was. It was his first day sober in Derry sense killing the clown. Richie blindly searched for a bottle to numb the prickling memories from surfacing, but settled for his glasses instead when he remembered he'd poured out his last beer after Eddie fell asleep.  
Eddie! Shit, Eddie. That had to be a dream. There was no way Eddie was in the livingroom down stairs right now. That had to be a dream, but richie was on his feet, taking the steps two at a time to check.  
Richie slid past the kitchen, barely slowing to swing the front door closed as he sprinted to the living room. There. On the couch lay a body, still and peaceful. Richie approached cautiously.  
Eddies face looked calm and more importantly, alive. Richie knelt down by the couch to watch for the rise and fall of his breathing. Sure enough, there it was, Eddies chest moving with the proof of life. Richies hands came up as if to touch and then dropped back to his sides. Eddie was here and alive, asleep on his couch. It would do no good to scare him off by waking him up to Richie pawing at him to check his pulse like some creep playing doctor. But it was innocent enough if Richie just spent a few minutes looking, checking for any hint that this wasn't the real Eddie or that this was the worlds cruelest prank. No harm at all if he just took a moment to count a few of the freckles he'd been admiring the other night.  
Richie stood and shook himself from the weird feeling he'd accidentally let himself indulge.  
Eddie was here, he should be a good host. Richie started by grabbing a blanket to put over his sleeping friend, then ran about collecting his empty beer bottles and other trash and putting away some of his crap he'd just let spill from his duffle bag. He even grabbed up Eddie's stuff and crammed it back in his suitcase, setting it by the couch for when he wakes up. Then he went to the kitchen and tried to turn on the light to find something to feed them for breakfast. Oh, right. No food and no lights.  
So Richie grabbed his wallet and walked out the door to get some supplies. He stopped a moment outside and gave the doorknob a funny look before deciding to lock it behind him. Just to be safe.  
Richie returned, and started cooking, planning on changing the lights after they ate. Thats when Eddie walked up on him, startling him as he poured pancakes.  
It was... nice. Almost domestic cooking for Eddie and himself. He could almost loose himself in imagining he was cooking for his husband the morning of their anniversary, almost. Guilt and shame cut the fantasy off short.  
Instead he tried to just let himself be satisfied with having platonic brunch with his platonic best friend. No thoughts of what if he brushed against Eddie's shoulder as he walked by to get his coffee, not wondering if Eddie read into the blanket he left for him, or if he even noticed. There were other things Richie should be thinking about right now.  
Things like how Eddie got here, and when did he plan on telling the other losers. But those thoughts were hard and complicated while sitting here with Eddie sipping his coffee was nice and easy. He could stand with some nice and easy right now.

\----------------------

Mike wanted to leave Derry. He wanted to leave sense... well, sense the first time he'd caught a beating from Bowers gang and had to explain to his old man what happened to the meat he was delivering. But the moment Mike saw Richie wandering through Derry alone and followed him, just to find him carving his and Eddies initials into the kissing bridge, Mike knew he couldn't just leave him. His childhood friend clearly needed his space to... sort through some things, but Mike couldn't leave him completely alone until he knew Richie would be ok.  
His concern deepened when he saw Richie tipping over himself into the woods headed towards the club house. He followed just to be sure he wouldn't get lost or hurt and when he knew Richie was out cold, he crept in after him and strategically left the bottle of fowl smelling liquid open on its side so Richie could at least climb out of the hole without falling and breaking his back.  
Mike shook his head and wished for the thousandth time they could have helped Stanley. Stanley would have known what to do to help Richie right now. But no. All Mike could do was get his friends killed and shift Richie onto his side in the hammock so he didn't kill himself if he puked in his sleep. Mike felt so useless as he climbed out of the clubhouse alone. He felt even more helpless when he resolved to actually talk to Richie just to find him passed out on the porch of his old house. All Mike could do was pull Richie into the house and let Bev know why Richie wasn't answering any of their calls.  
It was hard talking to Bev knowing what he knew. Richie was always the jokester, but he hid a lot of loneliness and secrets behind his humor. Loneliness recognizes loneliness, thats probably what held the losers club together in the first place. But Richie's secret feelings for Eddie were another thing all together. Something so private and exposing, it wasn't his place to share that part of Richie with her. But how was he supposed to help Rich alone? The losers were always better together, but now only five remained. Mike was probably holding it together the best out of all of them, other than Bill who was alreadyhard at work on his next book, but that didn't qualify him to help Richie through whatever he is dealing with right now.  
Mikes method of dealing with lose was to throw himself into research. Figure out a solution to the problem. But thats not how death or heartbreak worked. There was no lore or ritual to call on that would make Richie ok. Nothing would bring Eddie back or give Bev back the years she'd suffered with her former husband or heal Bens fear that he would never be worthy of Beverlys love. Nothing could give Bill back the chance to grow up with his little brother, and nothing would bring Stan back, or lift Mikes guilt for his death. Nothing. Mike found himself musing at something people use to say about this cursed town when they were children. Nothing that dies in Derry truely stays dead. What a load of shit. Nothing that lives in Derry ever truely lives is what they should have said. But now IT was gone and the curse lifted. They were finally allowed to leave Derry and find their own lives... but with all they lost, what did that even mean? Especially for Richie. Was there any way for Richie to move on, or would the affects of IT still manage to claim him like IT had Stan...  
All Mike could do is keep a better eye on Richie than he did Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions, feel free to ask and of course any comments letting me know what you think brings me so much joy and motivation to keep writing.


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